


Bittersweet

by Rovelae



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Hanahaki Disease, Hope's Peak Academy AU, Kokichi and Miu are Best Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 03:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21237110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovelae/pseuds/Rovelae
Summary: “You’re cruel, Shuichi,” Kokichi says. “Creeping into my dreams like this.”“You could pretend it’s real,” Shuichi offers, kissing the back of Kokichi’s hand, and Kokichi looks away.“I’ve woken up too many times."





	Bittersweet

“I love you, Kokichi.”

Certain. Straightforward. Not a trace of hesitation. That’s how Kokichi knows immediately that it’s a lie.

Shuichi’s fingers entwine with his own, and his other hand twirls a lock of Kokichi’s hair as his breath fans against his lips in a silent request. Some part of him wishes he had the strength to refuse.

He doesn’t.

Shuichi tastes like coffee and moonlight and winter and longing. His gentle, dark scent wraps around Kokichi’s mind and won’t let go. He’s perfect, too perfect, _agonizingly_ perfect.

“I love you,” Shuichi says again when they part, and Kokichi swallows back the knot in his throat.

“Cruel,” he manages to get out.

Shuichi’s brows furrow slightly. His fingertips dance along Kokichi’s hairline, brushing his bangs aside.

“You’re cruel, Shuichi,” Kokichi says. “Creeping into my dreams like this.”

“You could pretend it’s real,” Shuichi offers, kissing the back of Kokichi’s hand, and Kokichi looks away.

“I’ve woken up too many times,” he mutters, blinking away the stinging in his eyes.

“Kokichi?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“Stop.” Why can’t he turn away? “You’re a dream. Dreams are the worst kind of lies.”

“Not while you’re in them.” Those alluring golden eyes inches away, holding him spellbound. “What is it you always tell me? That some lies are told out of kindness?”

Kokichi hates that he can see where he’s going with this. Hates even more that he’s about to give in. “Cruel,” he repeats. Shuichi kisses him again, and he feels a tear trace down his face.

“Dream with me,” Shuichi murmurs against his lips. “I love you.”

Kokichi shuts his eyes and lets himself pretend, lets himself drown in the sensation. Shuichi’s arm wraps around his waist, pulling him close, and his fingers thread into Kokichi’s hair, and Kokichi clutches onto his shirt and hopes he never wakes up.

Shuichi breaks away to let him breathe and moves to his jawline, teeth grazing Kokichi’s skin in a way that makes his breath hitch. “I love you, Kokichi,” he whispers.

Kokichi can’t seem to make his voice work. “Sh-Shuichi….”

“I love you.” Shuichi kisses the tears from his cheeks, beautiful and breathtakingly sincere and everything Kokichi’s ever wanted.

“Beloved, I….”

Shuichi’s lips find the sensitive skin just below Kokichi’s ear and elicit a full-body shiver. “Kokichi,” he breathes, “I love you.”

He has to say it, has to tell him, even if it’s a dream, even if it will never matter. “Shuichi,” he says through the tears. “I-I love—”

_“Open the door already, Twink-ichi!”_

He’s awake immediately, tangled in more blankets than he ever remembers being on his bed, a migraine raging through his skull. He blinks uncomprehending at the door to his dorm room until the person on the other side pounds on it again with an exaggerated groan.

_“I know you’re in there! Get your hand outta your pants and let me in!”_

Kokichi sighs and begins extricating himself from the covers. Not to walk over to the door, of course—just to throw them back over himself after replying, “You took a wrong turn. Strip club’s in the opposite direction.”

Ouch—yelling doesn't help his headache _or_ his throat.

_“Screw you! You’re lucky this gorgeous girl genius brought her handy dandy Lock Unlocker!”_

“Oh, goodie,” he mumbles.

His door clicks and there’s a triumphant _hya-hah!_ from the other side.

_“I’m coming in! And I’d better not see what I think I’m gonna see!”_

“You wish,” Kokichi tries to say, but a wet cough is all that comes out, one that sends needles of pain flickering through his chest. He clenches his teeth and buries his face in the pillow as if by doing so, he’ll be able to catch one last hint of Dream Shuichi’s scent.

“Oi.” Miu sits down at the foot of his bed, dropping what sounds like a grocery bag next to her. “What’s with the silent treatment? Haven’t heard from you since you randomly got up and walked out of class yesterday.”

“Yesterday…?”

“It’s Thursday,” Miu says. “Kokichi, it’s _five p.m._ on Thursday. Have you … really been like this for more than twenty-four hours?”

Kokichi finally raises his head, still catching up. “Uh … have I?”

Miu’s lips are pursed in an unusually serious expression. “You look like roadkill.”

“And you look like you walked off the set of a bad porno,” he shoots back automatically, coughing into his hand. “Ow.”

“It’s gotten worse, hasn’t it.”

“What’s gotten worse?”

“Kokichi.”

“Fine! Yes. Yes, it’s worse.” He drops his head into his hands. “It’s always worse. Gets worse every time I even _think_ about him, which is bad because I can never _stop_ thi—_ghack!”_

A massive coughing fit cuts him off. He curls in on himself as Miu springs into action and grabs the trash can he’d set by the bed, already filled halfway with bloody forget-me-nots. Every frantic gasp for air has him choking on more of the stupid flowers until his vision starts to tunnel and blood bubbles up between his teeth. Miu has her hand on his back and she’s saying something, but the ringing in his ears drowns it out and he’s too busy gagging over the too-familiar taste to listen anyway.

He doesn’t know how long it takes for him to breathe normally again, but once he can, he feels colder and weaker than ever and all he wants to do is have his beloved hold him close and speak to him in his soft voice, tell him everything’s going to be okay.

The moment passes and Kokichi slumps back against the mattress, swiping his sleeve at the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes. Miu sets the trash can on the ground, wordless.

It’s something he appreciates about her, oddly enough—she’s accepted that Kokichi isn’t going to listen to her pleas to go to the hospital. She knows when to give up.

“I brought you some stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?” Kokichi croaks.

_“Food_ kinda stuff. Drink this.”

He catches her wrist. “Did you spit in it?”

“No, stupid. Here—”

The mouthpiece of a water bottle is forced into his mouth, and he scowls, but obliges—he needs it more than he’d realized, and at least it gets rid of the blood-taste for the time being.

“I had Kirumi make that Chinese egg soup stuff. I’m gonna force feed you if you don’t eat it yourself.”

“I’ll eat it,” Kokichi mumbles, accepting the still-warm tupperware. “I stole some pills from the nurse’s office. They’re on the dresser.”

“Yeah, yeah, hang on.”

“Get my phone, too.”

He dry-swallows a few pills for the pain and starts on the soup. It’s just as good as everything Kirumi makes, and filling enough without being too rich. He pulls a blanket tight around himself and eats while he scrolls through the messages on his phone.

**Miu [Yesterday, 13:27] – hey are you like,,, gonna come back to class or.....?**

**Miu [Yesterday, 18:08] – a response would be nice**

**Miu [Today, 09:22] – you’re not here today either??**

**Miu [Today, 16:46] – im coming over, you’d better have your clothes back on by the time i get there**

“Did I really just get up and leave class?” Kokichi says, mostly to himself. The last few days are hazy in his memory, a fog of pain and blood and trying in vain to keep his mind on things that wouldn’t make him cough blood all over the classroom.

Miu hums her agreement, not looking up from whatever device she’s started tinkering with. “Right in the middle of the lesson, too. I thought it was just a power move—you know, ‘cause you’re always saying how bored you are in class—but you were walking like a zombie.”

“Hmm.” Kokichi frowns at the concerned messages on the DICE group chat before sending one of his own.

**Me [17:03] – Hey guys! Sorry I missed your call. I’m okay, but you might not hear from me for a few days :( Do me a solid and give Togami’s Ferrari a little makeover while I’m gone. Pics or it didn’t happen!**

**Me [17:04] – Bonus points for glitter bombs, if we still have them**

He isn’t okay and he really shouldn’t lie to them.

**Rantaro [Yesterday, 16:15] – Hey, do you need to talk? Can you call me sometime? I’m worried about you.**

He really, really isn’t okay, but there’s no way he’s going to tell Rantaro that. He hadn’t even wanted Miu to know what was going on.

Better if he just disappears at the end of all of this without anyone finding out the truth. Especially….

**Shuichi [Today, 10:36] – Hi Kokichi,**

**Shuichi [Today, 10:37] – I’m sorry if this sounds forward, but are you feeling all right? I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of distant lately.**

**Shuichi [Today, 10:39] – I wanted to ask you in person, but it looks like you aren’t here today....**

**Shuichi [Today, 10:40] – Please let me know if I can do anything to help, okay?**

He’s crying before he realizes it, choking on forget-me-nots, and his heart hurts so badly it’s a miracle the Hanahaki doesn’t kill him here and now. Miu hesitates before pulling him into a hug, and he hates that he can’t stop the tears, that he can’t stop shaking and hurting and longing so, so desperately for Shuichi to be here with him. For Shuichi to fix everything. For Shuichi to listen while Kokichi tells him the truth, for once, and for Shuichi to smile and tell him _yes, I love you, of course I love you—I want to be with you, Kokichi._

“I am so in love with him,” he whispers.

Miu squeezes him tighter. “I know,” she says. “I know, and I’m so sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the OOC—Miu’s pottymouth is really hard to write when you’re a little baby who doesn’t like saying naughty words.  
My brain wrote this on the way home from work and I probably should have proofread it better than I did -.-  
Concrit welcome and appreciated!


End file.
